Qui-Gon's Legacy
by Adi Gallia
Summary: Updated. Not slash. During the funeral, a grieving Obi-Wan reflects on his past with Qui-Gon.


Qui-Gon's Legacy, by Adi Gallia

Star Wars:  
Qui-Gon's Legacy

by Adi Gallia   
  
  
Obi-Wan Kenobi's world was in flames. 

He stood rigidly, refusing to show the anguish within that was slowly shredding his soul. His features might have been painstakingly chiseled marble. His blue eyes were chips of diamond with an inferno reflected in their icy depths; his own personal Hell. He gazed blindly into the flickering light, searing the scene into his memory. Though he did not look up, he was aware of the other mourners present: the Naboo honor guards, the Gungan leaders, the newly-elected Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, Queen Amidala and her ever-present handmaidens, all twelve members of the Jedi Council. All were present to pay their final respects to Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn. 

_As if they could possibly understand just how much we've lost,_ Obi-Wan thought, savage in his grief. _None of them knew him as I did! Not one! What right have they to mourn his death, who knew nothing of his life?!_

_And those who did know him,_ he amended bitterly, thinking of the other Jedi present, _scorned him for daring to follow where the Force led him, even when it meant challenging the status quo!_

The dignified gathering was arrayed around the pyre in a loose circle; the spectacle suddenly inspired a strong sensation of déjà vu in the young Jedi. For a moment, he saw it as a tragic reprise of the scene scant days earlier, when Qui-Gon had stood tall and proud in the Jedi Council Chamber on Coruscant, the focus of an all-too-similar circle. 

_That day, though,_ Obi-Wan reflected as the hollow ache in his throat threatened to strangle him, _I was able to stand with him in the circle. Almost, I wish I could do the same here._

Truly, it would have been easier had he died in the battle against the Sith Lord, alongside his Master. _But that,_ he chastised himself, _is not a thought befitting Qui-Gon's....former.... apprentice._ The Jedi way was one which embraced life and justice, complete with their rewards and their tribulations. Had Obi-Wan failed to defeat the Sith, the dark Jedi would have gone on to murder countless more good people, spreading his evil influence throughout the Republic until the very stars were blotted out in his foul shadow. Still, Obi-Wan would have given his life, without the slightest hesitation, to spare Qui-Gon that mortal blow. If he had not allowed the Sith to knock him off balance, if he had been quicker to regain his footing, if he could have run just a bit faster, he could have been there. Not trapped behind a force field, but at his Master's side, united with him against the dark Lord. All the time and effort his mentor had invested in preparing him to become a Jedi, all his long years of training, had failed him in those critical moments. He had failed Qui-Gon. 

Obi-Wan had not slept since the battle, almost two days before. He couldn't. Every time he closed his eyes, even for a moment, before him in the darkness he saw it all again. Saw the leering red and black face of the Sith, the glare and spark of red and green lightsabers clashing, the nearly invisible red glow of the force field. Time and again, he watched in horror. Saw the brief moment that Qui-Gon's guard dropped. Saw the crimson double blade flash triumphantly. Saw the expression on his Master's face as he collapsed. Heard his own anguished scream rip from a throat raw with shock. He knew with deadly certainty that he would relive the scene in dreams every night of his life. 

He could still see Qui-Gon's noble face through the rising tongues of flame. The leonine features were as wise and tranquil in death as they had ever been while he lived. Obi-Wan's eyes burned, but he stubbornly refused to look away. The pain closed on his heart like an inexorable vise as he stared and remembered....   
  
  
All infants in the Republic were given standard blood tests as soon after birth as was feasible, in order to determine the concentration of midi-chlorians in their tissues. Those who tested high enough were taken from their families before their first birthday and brought to Coruscant to begin Jedi training. Millennia of experience had taught the Jedi that the younger a child entered the controlled environment of the Jedi Temple and began the training, the less susceptible he or she would be to fear, confusion, pride, and other emotions leading to the Dark Side. The strongest bonds with the Force were forged in the innocence of childhood, and the Jedi took advantage of the opportunity to ensure that those bonds were made out of love, not hate. 

As a result, Obi-Wan, like all Jedi, had been essentially raised by the Order, with no memory of his mother or father. Qui-Gon had been these and more to him for nearly twenty years. 

From their very first meeting just after Obi-Wan turned three, Qui-Gon had never dealt with the boy as anything less than a respected equal. Indeed, from the very start their relationship was a source of secret amusement to many; the tall, stately Jedi Knight-not yet a Master-would hunker down to the level of the thoughtful, serious and highly opinionated child in order to discuss at length some minor precept of the Jedi code. Possibly as a result, the young Obi-Wan's precocious intelligence and commitment to his vocation were evident quite early. When the boy was brought before the Council at the age of five to officially become Padawan to Qui-Gon, Master Yoda expressed an unusual amount of interest in him. 

"Hmmm, different this one is." The aging Jedi eyed the child speculatively. "Special. Clouded his future is, but powerful will he be. Important his role will be."   
  
  
Once the traditional ceremony binding Master and Padawan learner together was complete, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were rarely separated. The Jedi Knight took delight in his apprentice's quick mind and physical agility, and the boy responded with an almost worshipful devotion to his Master. It was Qui-Gon who gently doctored Obi-Wan's childhood scrapes and bruises, showed him the ways of the Force and how to tap its power, helped him build his own lightsaber and drilled him endlessly in his fighting technique. 

Above all else, however, the older man had taught Obi-Wan patience and compassion, not with words, but by example. Qui-Gon had an infinite capacity to see good in beings that others overlooked or discounted as hopeless, and never failed to treat every living thing with equal respect. This, he had often explained to his Padawan, was one of the two aspects of the Force: the Living Force. This aspect was found within all living things, and communicated with them through the midi-chlorians. In contrast, Obi-Wan had always demonstrated a greater sensitivity to the Unifying Force, the aspect which was responsible for binding all life in the universe together, as well as binding the past, present and future. The two Jedi complemented each other well in their differing sensitivities. 

_Yes, and in other ways, too,_ Obi-Wan mused. _I will very much miss his steadying presence, which so often acted to counterbalance my....rather impetuous nature._

He recalled the many times that his hot-headedness had gotten him into trouble over the years, and how Qui-Gon had always helped him extricate himself from difficult situations with some semblance of grace. He found himself smiling ruefully at the memories, despite the tears streaming down his face. With seemingly endless patience, Qui-Gon had never once taken his apprentice to task for such lapses of control. He had offered only encouragement and praise. This generosity only prompted Obi-Wan to try that much harder to succeed, to be worthy in his Master's eyes. All he had ever wanted was for Qui-Gon to be proud of him. 

He clearly remembered such a day several years earlier, when he was fifteen. It was the first time he had ever bested his Master-who was widely acknowledged as one of the finest Jedi warriors alive-in a practice duel. The two had been sparring with imitation lightsabers for close to three hours, and when Qui-Gon's fatigue caused him to leave a small opening in his defenses, Obi-Wan took advantage of it. All conscious thought had been wiped from his mind as he pressed his edge. Suddenly he realized that he was looking down at his Master, who was laying propped up on his elbows on the mat, his lightsaber several meters away. Obi-Wan merely stared for a moment at this strange role reversal, and at the unusual expression on Qui-Gon's face. Despite his weariness, the Jedi's eyes radiated delighted pride and amazement with the intensity of a small supernova. Obi-Wan felt a rush of sheer joy. From then on, during his infrequent triumphs, he was always intent on watching Qui-Gon's face at the moment his blue holographic blade managed to pierce his Master's guard....   
  
  
_....the look on his face as the red blade pierced his chest...._   
  
  
The nightmarish scenes came flooding back. But in that battle, the lightsabers had been utterly, hideously real. Though his eyes never left the pyre, Obi-Wan's hand dropped to the lightsaber hanging on his belt. Qui-Gon's green-bladed lightsaber. His own had fallen into the pit in the generator core; he found a certain vengeful poetic justice in the fact that he had slain the Sith Lord with his fallen Master's weapon. 

As the dark Jedi fell into the pit, Obi-Wan had instantly dropped the blade he held and scrambled to his Master's side. But he was too late. He could only watch, faithfully promising to honor Qui-Gon's dying wish: that Obi-Wan train young Anakin Skywalker to become a Jedi. His Master's eyes focused for a brief moment on his own....and then quietly closed forever. He had stayed there, cradling the lifeless body and sobbing like a child, until Captain Panaka and his guards had found him and gently led him away. He could see it with such awful clarity, Qui-Gon's face the moment before he died.... 

But now an additional sliver of shattered memory lanced its way to the surface. In those last moments, there had been something in his Master's eyes, something familiar, calling him to remember.... 

Pride. Qui-Gon had been proud of him. For defeating the Sith, for proving his worthiness to become a full Jedi Knight, for his final promise, for his devotion to his Master, for all the little successes and triumphs over the years....it had all been there, shining in Qui-Gon's eyes for Obi-Wan to see. His own pain and tears had blinded him to it, but it had been there. 

With the restoration of that memory, Obi-Wan felt a refreshing peace steal over him. The leaden cloak of grief was lifted from his soul, and for the first time he raised his eyes from the blaze, to contemplate the ceiling and what lay beyond it. He imagined he could almost feel Qui-Gon's hand on his shoulder. He closed his eyes, and this time when his Master's face appeared, there were no flames and no pain. Only pride and affection, and a gentle smile. When he spoke, his words were kind, but serious. 

_You have done well, my young Jedi. Thanks to your efforts, the power of the Sith has been much weakened. Though their dark fire still burns, you have won several more years of relative peace for the good creatures of the galaxy._ Qui-Gon's voice paused for moment, as if he were choosing his next words with great care. 

_I taught you as well as I knew how, and no Master could have wished for a more dedicated Padawan, nor a truer friend. Be mindful of your training, and you will fare well in the difficult times ahead. As always, the greatest danger will come not from without, but from within. You were wise to shed your grief and anger, for those are the first steps on the path to the Dark Side. Be watchful that those around you do not fall prey to the same temptations. May the Force be with you, Obi-Wan Kenobi, for its voice will continue to influence your future...._

Qui-Gon's voice trailed away and was drowned out by the sudden rushing crescendo of a rising wind. Obi-Wan's head began to spin. He felt as if he were being pulled in all directions at once. He was caught in a whirling maelstrom of light and sound. Snatches of color, shreds of fleeting scenes cavorted before his eyes. Garbled bits of broken sound assaulted his ears. Carried on the twisting gusts of wind, the fragments slowly oriented and coalesced out of the chaos to form a series of lightspeed images. They whirled into view and were rapidly whisked away, almost before he could take note of them. The scenes continued to present themselves in a flickering deluge, with no sign of stopping. He was hopelessly disoriented by the speed and the unfamiliar visions, but then Obi-Wan found himself focusing on a familiar face.... 

He saw Anakin driving in a pod race, crossing the finish line as the triumphant winner. Saw Amidala striding confidently at the head of a vast black army. Saw her lead her dark legions to the Galactic Senate Chamber, where they began to dismantle the building's foundations even as she greeted Chancellor Valorum with a smile. Saw Anakin, this time as a young man of twenty or so, his blue eyes angry and sad and fearful, a lightsaber clasped expertly in his hands. Saw that same Anakin lose his footing at the brink of an abyss and plummet down into a deep, fiery pit, to be consumed by a roiling black cloud. Saw the cloud become Amidala's evil horde and begin consuming entire worlds, as the middle-aged Queen looked on in horror, as if she had never recognized it before. Saw her flee, only to be pursued and overcome by her former minions. Saw two infants, a boy and a girl, taken from the midwife and handed over to different mothers. Saw the planet Tatooine under its harsh double suns, long years of thankless labor, a young boy with Anakin's blond hair and intense gaze, a lightsaber locked in a chest. Saw a young woman with Amidala's face, her hair rolled in the style of Alderaan, fleeing the same shadowy host. Saw a hopeless war against innumerable foes who all wore the same face: that of Chancellor Palpatine. Saw suffering on a scale such as he had never contemplated before. Saw the annihilation of the Jedi, the fall of the venerable Republic, the rise of an oppressive Empire. Saw the tumultuous black shadow swiftly grow until it blotted out the light of all the stars, casting the galaxy into impenetrable darkness. For a moment, the cloud took on the likeness of Anakin as a young man. Then it changed, metamorphosing into a cruel mask of ebony metal and the swirl of a black cloak. 

Obi-Wan's head was still spinning, but now his thoughts were doing the same. He could make no sense of the random scenes. There was no apparent pattern or coherent meaning. But as he watched in bewilderment, he gradually became aware of a germinating conviction blossoming at the back of his skull. He focused on it, bringing it closer and closer to his full awareness. As the final images flashed past, ending with the menacing shadow that filled his vision, the idea burst into full flower in his mind. 

Suddenly, he understood. For a single, brief, shining moment, he saw it all, and understood. Then it was gone. He cried out in his mind. In that instant, the meaning had all been so clear, but the harder he tried to recall it, the quicker it faded. He was left once more in confusion, feeling the abrupt loss of comprehension like a mortal wound. All he was left with was a single revelation. He could see with exquisite precision what Qui-Gon had suspected all along. 

The boy, Anakin Skywalker, was indeed the Chosen One described by the ancient prophecy. His apparently miraculous birth, his strength with the Force....it all fit. He would certainly bring balance to the Force....but Jedi scholars had never been able to agree on precisely what that meant. A balance implied two opposing sides, always assumed to be the Light and Dark Sides of the Force. But which side was in need of balance? No one had ever come up with a single, definitive answer. But now Obi-Wan knew. It was both. 

There was an ancient Jedi proverb that read, "Only in the Dark can a Light shine forth; only the Light can cast a Shadow." In order for the Force to be balanced, one individual would have to embody both Sides and reconcile their diametrically conflicting natures. That was the role of the Chosen One. Only in him could the Light balance the Dark, and the Dark coexist in harmony with the Light, for each was necessary to the other. It had been foolish for the Jedi Council to believe that the power of the Sith was gone from the universe, for without their Sith counterparts, the Order of Jedi Knights itself would be meaningless. 

As Yoda had said, Anakin's future was impossible to foresee, shadowed as it was by the influence of the Dark Side. His identity as the Chosen One in no way guaranteed that he would succeed in bringing about the balance, but he was the only one who could. Regardless of the final outcome, the battle between the Light Side and the Dark Side would finally have closure. Either the two Sides would be reconciled through Anakin, or one Side would achieve a final triumph over the other, and the universe would rip itself apart from the strain. 

Obi-Wan was breathless at this unexpected revelation. He did not understand how he had reached this amazing conclusion; it did not seem to be related in any way to the visions he had seen. Nor did he understand his sudden, unwavering certainty that it was true. However, Qui-Gon had cautioned him often over the years to be mindful of the Force, to listen to its voice even when he did not comprehend its words. 

_The voice of the Force?_ Obi-Wan thought incredulously. _More like the deafening scream of the Force....it certainly got my attention._

With some difficulty, he set aside his bewilderment and incredulity and simply believed. Anakin Skywalker was the Chosen One, a boy with a unique destiny, and Jedi training was a necessary first step on the path to that destiny. He would honor his promise to Qui-Gon. 

All these thoughts took place in the place of a single moment. Having come to an understanding with the universe, Obi-Wan opened his eyes to dispel the remnants of the black cloud still hanging in his vision. Yet even with his eyes open, the dark, seething mass remained. As he blinked in mild puzzlement, the shadow slowly divided and coalesced into two smaller blots of inky fog, which began to move. The larger half floated off to his left, while the smaller piece wafted purposefully toward him, only to veer off at the last possible moment and descend upon Anakin, where he stood at Obi-Wan's right shoulder. 

For a long moment the boy seemed oblivious to the sinister aura he had acquired; then his eyes began to water and he started coughing violently. Suddenly, the cloud was no longer the evil shadow from Obi-Wan's vision, but merely a billow of smoke from the dying fire. He patted the boy solicitously on the back. Hearing coughs from the other direction as well, he turned to see Supreme Chancellor Palpatine also choking slightly on the acrid smoke, covering his mouth politely with his hand. 

Obi-Wan turned back to Anakin, who had recovered slightly and was wiping his streaming eyes on one sleeve. The Jedi suspected that not all of the tears could be attributed to the fire, but said nothing. Anakin met his eyes solemnly and asked, "What will happen to me now?" He seemed half-afraid of what the answer might be. 

For a moment Obi-Wan was startled, thinking that Anakin was asking about the future in his vision, but then he realized that the boy's concern was more immediate. He smiled reassuringly. 

"The Council have given me permission to train you. You will become a Jedi, I promise you." 

Young Skywalker straightened, visibly relieved to hear that his newfound future had not died alongside Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan lifted his head and gazed once more into the glowing embers, but his heart was no longer heavy with grief and remorse. Qui-Gon had given his life so that a new and brighter future could dawn for Naboo and the rest of the galaxy. Now Obi-Wan's own task, the least he could do to honor his beloved Master's memory, was to live in that future and fulfill the promise he had made to Qui-Gon and to the universe at large. 

He laid a paternal hand on young Anakin's shoulder. Whatever the future held, from now on they would face it side by side, just as he and Qui-Gon always had. Jedi Knight and Padawan learner turned as one, putting their backs to the ashes, and prepared to go forward together to meet their destinies.   
  
  
  
(c) C.L. May, July 1999 

The names, faces, illusions, allusions and all other related material are not mine. They sprang from the incredibly creative and undeniably twisted psyche of one George Lucas. He just lets the rest of us play with his toys for a while. I promise not to break any of them, or sell them off and pocket the profits. Dammit, George, I'm a Jedi, not a Ferengi! 


End file.
